The Mayor of Munchkinland

There is this man at work. A short, little man, of small-medium build, with a kind face. Definitely not young, but not old either. Full head of grey hair and a full grey beard. He works for the cleaning company. He drives the floor cleaner. It's a small, red floor cleaner. Whereas a zamboni driver, or regular street cleaner, is dwarfed by their vehicle, this floor cleaner is perfectly proportionate to this man. As I'm walking down the aisle, he always gives a couple short waves of his hand and nods his head as if to say "Go, go, it's okay, I'm fine waiting a minute. Have a good day" until I pass by.

If this man tried out for the role of Mayor of Munchkinland in a Wizard of Oz musical, they would stop auditions and award him the part on the spot. If he told me he wasn't the Mayor of Munchkinland in a past life, I wouldn't believe him.

The other day I was in the aisleway by the washrooms. I saw him. I don't usually see him in that aisle. That aisle is far away from his floor cleaner and usual route. Then I saw where he was coming from. A door under the stairs I had never noticed before. A door that was 3/4 the size of all the other doors. A small little door, for the small little man who drives the small little floor cleaner.

I'm convinced that door is the entrance to Munchkinland.